Yes I'm Gonna Be A Star
by Lennonion
Summary: The fab four have just arrived in America, and special arrangements have been made for them to appear on the Ed Sullivan show. Brian, their manager, has made a special - but confidential agreement - with the studio and the Liverpool lads are left to wonder what they're up against. After all, it's their first time on the telly.
1. 1

We'd heard all about the Ed Sullivan show - all of the teeny boppers watched it, having high expectations for their idols. All of us as a band were deemed 'hot shit' by the man himself, and he strode over with his nose way up in the air. Watching from a corner, I noted that they exchanged quiet whispers and the lanky TV icon showed Eppy the paper. The little fatboy's eyes went wide and I saw him blushing. _That's only because he's gay. Nothing to worry about there._ But it was eating me alive to know what was on that paper. Would it be the be-all and end-all of our career?

Paul let out a giggle as his hand trailed up to his mouth. "Contain yourself. I'm startin' to think you're a bit fruity, too." I flicked him on the arm. "Oh.. Looks like Eppy's got a little crush.. Tee-hee!" He laughed girlishly, his hazel eyes peering into mine. "Oh, come on. Are you really that interested in what he does in bed?" I smirked. "Well, I have a right to wonder, don't I?" Taking his wrist in mine rather forcefully, I stared him down. "Seriously, Paul. You're really sounding gay. Did they slip something into your drink? Do you know something-" I was silenced by a loud and obnoxious _'shhh'_ from none other than Macca himself as Brian walked over.

"Boys! I need your attention. Mr. Sullivan has made some special arrangements for you lads to appear on the show. We can't mess around.. And one more thing.." We cut him off with a loud chorus of huzzahs and whistles. "The fun comes later! We have some practice to do.. Because this time, it's rather special. The crew over at the studio have accommodated you. Don't blow it." He winked at me, walking off with Ed and signing some papers. What was _that_ for?

"We're gonna be on the fuckin' Ed Sullivan show! Live! In front of everyone! D'you know what that means!? Hmm?" Paul buzzed in my ear, clinging to my shoulders. I could feel him jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. "Relax! Did you even hear what Eppy said? We can't ruin this. Sure it's all fun and games for us now, but what if we screw it up?" They all looked at me as if I had three heads. "We've never been on the telly before.." George pulled me in by the tie and handed me a drink. "We're the fucking Beatles. We don't _'screw up'_." They all raised their glasses to his statement and I smirked.

The obnoxious buzzing of the day and the sudden announcements racked my brain - unleashing a jittery jar of butterflies in my stomach. What were those special accommodations? Why were they for us and not some other group? It was _really_ unlike me, but I felt nervous. "Johnny, what's wrong?" Paul asked, taking a drag of his cigarette and putting it in the ash tray. After that, he undid his tie and took off his shirt right in front of me. "Umm.. What are you doing?" My eyes stayed glued to his skin. After all, I'd never gotten such a good look at him in this way... "Just changin'. Why, do you mind? Brian-"

"Brian _what?_ I'm really starting to worry about you.." I laughed uneasily. His face flushed dark red. I knew him and he knew me better than anyone else. Something was up. "Uhh, Macca?" I asked. "Yea..?" He responded, slowly reaching for his ciggie to take another drag. "Are you sure you like birds?" I stared at him. "What!? Of course I do.. T-That's crazy talk." He laughed loudly. "Really? You seem awful interested in Eppy, and you acted.. Well.. Really _vivacious_ today, if you know what I mean."

"Who are you to be talking? When's the last time you hooked up with a bird? I don't know what you do under the sheets.. Let alone the dirty thoughts you think." He snickered. "And you can't deny the way Brian looks at you.." Oh, God. He's right. I hadn't hooked up in weeks. Eppy had a 'thing' for me - he always had. "I mean, it's okay if you.. Y'know, take it up the arse." I smirked. "We're best friends. Don't forget that." I snatched the ciggie from his fingers, took a puff, and plopped lazily next to him on the bed.


	2. 2

I struggled to hear through the mug, pressing it up against the wall and bending at an awkward position. I needed to hear what they were saying. Part of me hated the fact that they were in close proximity, and the other half needed them to be because of the agreement. Ed Sullivan was technically my boss right now, and naturally, he had a lot of connections with people. Lately, he said he'd been in touch with a company that played a big part in showbiz... But there was a catch.

This 'company' wasn't mainstream at all... It fell under the 'taboo' category. They made special films that were becoming an important - but secret - part of American culture. I felt terrible doing this to the boys. There was no doubt that they had talent, but could I really say no to Ed Sullivan? Submissively, I signed every last paper. It was in my contract that I had to promise not to tell the lads what I'd gotten them into, but I dropped little hints to Paul. I flirted with him and we went out for drinks a lot, forcing us to become closer. Honestly, he was my least favorite. He was like a wedge between John and I. Sure, John had known him longer than he'd known me, but I _wanted_ John a lot more than he did. I soon discovered that Paul had a baby crush on John.

I managed to make out muffled words. "We're best friends..." "It's okay if you take..." "Hand me the cigarette..." _Good, nothing sexual. Yet._ "Speaking of cigarettes.." I muttered to myself, anxiously setting the mug on the hotel bedside table and reaching for the pack. Taking a match, I lit the cancer stick and took a slow drag. The familiar scent of fresh-lit ciggies wafted through the air. "What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?" My train of thought derailed when a knock came at the door.

"Come in!" I yelled. Young George entered the room, and I was surprised to see him. He was so quiet and mysterious. A shy boy. "Yes..?" I asked, smirking at his bashfulness. "Eppy, do you know where Ringo might be?" I set my cigarette on the ash tray and sat back in the armchair. "I have some terrible news for you.. I'm afraid he took the last flight back to Liverpool." His eyes went wide with distraught. "What!? Why?" My face remained grim.

"It was all too much - America, y'know. Poor thing nearly had a panic attack." I sighed dramatically. "Fuck, Brian. I'm goin' back with 'im." He scrambled down the hallway, and I got up out of my seat and chased him. "Geo, I'm only kiddin' ya. Ring's probably in one of these suites." Laughing, I gestured up and down the hallway with my finger. "Don't tease me like that.."

"Why, is there something you're planning on doing with Ringo that I should know about?" I smirked. The youngest Beatle's face flushed a dark shade of red, and he clung to the doorway. "Frolick about, young'un. Don't get into too much trouble." I made a go-away motion with my hand, cigarette between my fingers, and left him behind to wallow in embarrassment.


End file.
